


It's (Not) Fine

by PinkPandorafrog



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Little bit of angst, darcy needs a puppy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 07:14:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7881700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkPandorafrog/pseuds/PinkPandorafrog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It somehow figures that the first time Frank shows up at Darcy's house, he's half-dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's (Not) Fine

Darcy sat bolt upright in bed. Something had woken her up. She couldn't place it. Her sleep had been nightmare-free for once, it wasn't that. She stayed absolutely still, her heart hammering in her chest, adrenaline shooting hot and cold through her limbs.

There it was again, the noise that had woken her up. Something scraped across the floor in her kitchen. She scrambled to pull some clothes on, grabbing the first things she could find before she made her way through her small house.

She stopped short in the entryway to the kitchen. “Oh my god.” Her hand flew up to cover her mouth as she took in the sight waiting for her. Frank was slumped over in one of her kitchen chairs, he looked like he was barely keeping himself upright. He was covered in blood, but he appeared to be bandaged and stitched up. That was something, at least.

And he wasn't alone. Karen was pale and grim-faced as she hovered beside his chair, her hand moving back and forth over his shoulders.

“What happened?” Darcy asked, her eyes flicking back and forth between them.

Frank's dark eyes swung up to her, focusing on her for only a moment before falling back to the table in front of him. “Darcy? Aw, _shit_ , Karen.”

“I'm sorry, I didn't know where else to go.” Karen's eyes were wide, her words faster than normal.

“No, it's fine.” Darcy shook her head. “It's fine. Um.” She glanced over her shoulder at the couch. That wasn't going to work. “How mobile are you, Frank?”

“I'm okay.” He clearly wasn't, both from the look at him and the strain in his voice. But Darcy was used to dealing with stubborn people.

“Yeah, alright. Come be okay in my room so you don't reopen any of that.” It was easy to push her worry down under having something constructive to do.

“I can't do that.” He shook his head, staring hard at the table.

She rolled her eyes. “Either you do, or I'm calling someone who will physically _make_ you. Your choice.”

He did look up at her at that, and a ghost of his familiar grin crossed his lips. Hands braced on the table, he pulled himself slowly to his feet, wincing every time he moved. Karen took his arm and pulled it gently across her shoulders, guiding his painful steps through the kitchen.

“Which door?” Karen asked as they passed.

“Second door on the right.” Darcy waved in its general direction. She waited until they were halfway through the living room before contuning on into the kitchen, automatically going through the steps of making a fresh pot of coffee. Dump the grounds, rinse the basket. Water, filter, coffee, hit the on switch.

She could hear their low voices coming from the other room, and there was something in Frank's voice that she'd never heard before, a peculiar kind of warmth. She turned the faucet back on to drown him out.

This was the first time he'd ever been here. Her eyes fixed on the swirl of the water as it spun down the drain. She was positive that Frank knew where she lived, but he'd always turned down her offer of somewhere to stay. Said he didn't want to bring that on her. Her fingers pressed in against the cool chrome. He was here now.

The sound of a chair moving across the linoleum again stirred her out of her thoughts, and Darcy shut off the faucet and turned to see Karen sinking down into the chair that Frank had just vacated. Dark smears of blood decorated her clothes, but she seemed to be unhurt. “Coffee?” Darcy asked.

Karen shook her head, but then she paused and nodded. “I know he's wanted, but you've mentioned people crashing here before in a pinch, and I just didn't know where else to take him.”

“It's fine.” Darcy finished fixing Karen's coffee and set the tall green mug down on the table in front of the other woman. “Frank's good people.”

Karen peered up at her, eyes narrowed. “How do you know Frank?” A tone of suspicion, quickly masked in the large drink of coffee that Karen took. _Ah_.

“Come on, Karen,” Darcy answered, aiming for an easy, light tone that she mostly pulled off. “I know everyone, remember?” The rest could probably be blamed on a blood-covered felon showing up in her kitchen at some ungodly hour in the morning.

Karen seemed to relax a little bit at that. “Yeah, I guess you do. I don't even know what happened.” She shook her head, watching the brown liquid in her mug. “He just showed up at my door. I called Claire, but then... He can't stay with me.” Defensiveness, guilt...

Darcy turned away to get her own cup of coffee. “I told you it's fine. He can crash here until he's ready to not.” She paused, taking a deep breath before turning back to face Karen. “Do you need anything? Do you want me to run those through the wash?” She gestured to Karen's peach blouse. “I am _awesome_ with blood.”

Karen looked down at the dark stains as if noticing them for the first time. “No. I should go.” Her palms against the edge of the kitchen table made it quiver as she got to her feet. She seemed transfixed on the splashes of crimson. “No, I need to go.”

“Why don't you hang out?” Darcy shrugged. “I'm up, you're obviously awake and probably will be for a bit.” And maybe Karen shouldn't be on her own just right now.

“No.” Karen's eyes narrowed, and she shook her head again. “No, I'll see you later. Thanks, Darcy. I'll call you...” She turned and left through the kitchen door, letting her out into the night. A few moments later, Darcy heard the sound of a vehicle engine. She didn't think Karen had a car... She should probably call someone. Foggy? Matt? Karen probably wouldn't appreciate that, though.

“Darcy,” came Frank's voice through the house, pulling her out of her inner debate.

Wrapping both hands around the comforting warmth of her mug, Darcy moved back through the house, her bare feet silent against the carpet. She hesitated for a second in front of her bedroom door. It was open a little bit, a dim pool of light coming from the lamp beside the bed.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed door all the way open and stepped inside, pausing in the doorway.

Frank was laying on her bed, his hair dark against her pillowcase. “I didn't know she would bring me here,” he said, a rueful tone in his voice.

“It's fine.” She'd been using that word a lot. But it was fine. The very first time they'd fucked, he'd said that the woman he was pining over was named Karen- apparently the Karen she knew. That information didn't really change anything but from his voice, it kinda sounded like it might. “I told you my bed was more comfortable.”

He smiled for only a moment, the expression quickly chased away by a grimace of pain.

“You need anything?” She bit her lip, glancing back towards the kitchen. “Something to eat, maybe an icepack?” Well, from the look of him it would take more like an ice sleeping bag, but whatever. “Is there anything out there floating around in the city that I should track down for you?”

His eyes dropped to the mug in her hand, white with a ballet dancing cat on the side. “Could use some of that.”

“You don't like the way I take my coffee.” Still, she entered the room, crossing to stand beside the bed.

Frank grimaced as he pulled himself a little more upright and took the mug when she handed it to him. He didn't drink right away, he just lay there looking at her over the rim. “Sorry,” he offered finally.

She smoothed the thick, dark hair back from his forehead. “You know, if I'd known it would take half-killing you to get you into my bed, maybe I would have tried it sooner.”

* * *

 

Darcy sat bolt upright in bed. Not bed, she was on the couch where she'd been sleeping for the past week. She was gasping for breath, her hair sticking to the tear tracks running down the side of her face. The nightmare, the same as it always was, those words, those horrible words, that raspy voice filling her ears.

A shape appeared beside her, and she swung at him on instinct.

He caught her wrist, holding it gently in his large hand. “Easy, Darcy.” The voice was different than the one she'd been expecting. She'd never been on the other side of the earpiece from this voice. It sounded warm, comforting; she wanted to wrap herself in it like a blanket.

She relaxed, letting her arm fall slack in his grip. “I'm sorry, Frank.”

“It's okay.” His voice was gentle, soothing, she'd heard him use the same tone on a skittish pit bull. “I get nightmares too sometimes.” He paused, his thumb stroking almost idly over the inside of her wrist. “Can I sit?”

She nodded, swiping the remaining tears from her face with her free hand.

He moved, shifting her down a little until he was sitting behind her, and he pulled her back against his side. He still held her wrist, his arm draped across her stomach.

She rested her head back against his solid shoulder, her hair moving easily over his bare skin. She could hear his heart beating, the reassuring thump deep in his chest. His torso rose and fell with each steady breath. She felt safe with him there, weird as that was. Like, he'd killed just a ton of people, but he always felt safe to her.

“Why don't you come back to bed with me?” Frank asked after a bit, when Darcy was just starting to feel chilly and think about pulling up the blanket over her bare legs.

“What about Karen?” The question had been on the tip of her tongue since he'd arrived that night. Every time he looked at her, every time he'd smiled at something she said, but she'd held back. It was out now, though, weighing down the air around them. Karen had called every day to check up on him.

He sighed, his chest stilling for a moment after it fell at the end. “Karen wants someone to love her, and I don't deserve all that.”

“You do love her.” Darcy let her eyes fall closed, the fingertips of her free hand skimming over the fine hairs on his arm.

“Wish every day that I didn't. She doesn't deserve this.” The words fell heavy from his lips.

“And I do?” She meant it as a joke, mostly. Only her nightmare had left her raw, exposed, and she hated the needy self-doubt she could hear in her voice.

“No, but that ain't what you're after. Not from me, not from anyone. You want me 'cause I remind you of him.” His tone was matter-of-fact.

She tried to turn around to face him, the his grip on her wrist and the press of his arm kept her where she was. “Hey, that's not-”

“Didn't say it was the only reason.” He sounded amused as he cut her off. His thumb stroked over the inside of her wrist again. “Come to bed.”

Darcy sighed. “Okay.” He did release her then, and she got to her feet. She'd need her pillow, but she had to wait until he was off of it to grab it.

He was a little slower getting to his feet, and she felt a stab of guilt. “Fuck, I'm sorry. I'm still all half-asleep, I didn't think. You should have said something, I would've moved.”

“Bullshit.” He pulled himself up to his full height, a hazy shape in the dark. “I didn't say anything, you were good.”

She highly doubted that, but she knew arguing with him wouldn't get her very far. She waited until he stepped away from the couch to grab her pillow and blanket, and followed him back to her bedroom.

It had been a bit since she'd slept in here, and it felt a little bit awkward climbing into bed with him, and not just since he was obviously still in pain. They were both naked, and she'd never actually slept with him before.

He wasn't having it, though. He pushed gently on her hip until she rolled onto her side, and he curled himself up around her back. She could feel the gauze of some of his bandages against her skin, that made it a bit hard to relax completely. Still, the rhythm of his breathing was soothing, and it wasn't long before she fell back asleep.

* * *

 

The atmosphere in the house was different that Saturday, and Darcy knew that Frank was getting ready to leave again. He'd probably been feeling well enough to leave for a few days, but he had lingered.

He was waiting until dark, that made the most sense. He was still a wanted felon, after all.

Darcy had made a bit of an effort for dinner. There was steak, even though she wasn't that into steak, because he was a fan. She'd gotten a bit dressy, too, wearing a black wrap dress that she'd always loved.

Dinner was good, though, he'd appreciated it. He even helped her clean up afterward, but the kitchen quiet in the kitchen was almost a physical weight as they got the dishes done.

She put the last plate away and threw the dish towel on the counter. It was faster with the two of them cleaning up. She turned away from the counter and jumped, her hand flying to her chest. Frank was just behind her, she hadn't expected him that close. “You startled me.”

He didn't answer her, just reached for the tie at the side of her dress. His dark eyes flicked up to hers before dropping back down to concentrate on it, pulling her dress open. “Fuck,” he breathed, his eyes moving over her as it pushed it off her shoulders.

Okay, so she'd specifically picked her lingerie with him in mind, too. She hadn't flaunted herself or flashed him while he'd been staying with her, but in a house that small, and especially after she'd started sleeping in her bed again too, he'd seen her less-than-dressed a few times. She preferred satin to lace, but the one time she'd worn a lace bra, his eyes had practically popped out of his head and she swore he was going to take her on the spot. He hadn't obviously. But the way he was looking at her now...

He caught her hand and pulled her away from the counter, out into the kitchen a little bit more. “This all for me?” His gaze seemed stuck on the lavender garter belt that matched her lacy, see-through bra.

“Sure, if you want it.” She'd meant it to be playful, but her words came out a husky invitation.

Frank dropped her hand and moved around behind her. He was so close she could feel the warmth of his body. One finger slipped under her bra strap, his knuckle skimming down along her skin. His other hand pushed her hair out of the way, and then his lips caressed across the back of her neck.

She let her eyes fall closed, giving herself over the heat of his mouth. The edge of his teeth made her let out a soft sigh, tingles of pleasure shooting through her.

He slipped the strap off her shoulder, his fingers tracing down over the edge of the soft fabric at the top of one cup. He cupped her breast, the side of his thumb brushing directly over her nipple.

He straightened up, stepping into her until his chest was pressed along the length of her back. He plucked at her nipple, coaxing it to a stiff peak. The lace rasped a little, the sensation different than just skin against skin. She could feel the warmth of his fingers, but it was dulled a bit. Just a bit, though, his deft touch still sent jolts of heat down between her legs.

She reached up behind him, letting her fingers sink into his thick hair. This felt different, and not just his touch. They weren't having a quickie in a back alley somewhere, him searching for his humanity after he killed someone, her trying to lose herself. There was none of the sense of urgency, of worry about being caught.

He shifted to the other side, working over her rosy bud until she arched into him, unable to keep still.

Darcy reached behind her, slipping her hand between them. She felt along his dark jeans until she found the ridge of his erection. She couldn't really close her fingers around it, but she stroked along his length.

He let out a long breath. “You'd tempt a saint, and I ain't no saint.” His hand skimmed down over the soft curve her belly, lingering a little on the lace before he was tracing along her center.

His nimble touch and the heat of his mouth had made her slick with arousal. Her panties had to be getting damp, and even moreso when he pressed in against her. He teased along her lips before one finger slid up to find her clit. She let out another long sigh as he rubbed a slow circle over it through the fabric.

It scratched a little against the sensitive flesh, making her squirm against him. It felt good, but there was an edge to it that was almost too much. “Do you want me to stop?” he asked, slowing a little.

“No.” She caught her lip between her teeth. “But I bet we'd be more comfortable on the bed.”

He let out a little huff of amusement. “Yeah. That's probably a good idea.” There was a sudden chill against her back as he slipped away from her.

She walked through the house. He moved so quietly that she had to look back to make sure he was following her. He definitely was, his eyes fixed unashamedly on where her thong mostly exposed her ass. She put a little extra swing in her hips, smiled at the muffled curse that followed.

There was really no sexy way to crawl up on the bed, but she climbed up from the side, arranging herself on her back more or less in the middle.

Frank stood at the foot of the bed. His dark eyes followed her curves as he pulled off his shirt and undid his belt, letting his jeans fall to the floor.

Her eyes moved over the lines of his lean muscles. She'd only ever seen him like this once before, and that hadn't exactly been a pleasant time. She looked her fill now, and he paused there, a grin growing on his face as she looked at him. “Yeah.” She nodded. “You'll do.”

His eyebrows rose a little in challenge. “Yeah? I promise that's not what you'll be saying in a couple minutes.” _He_ somehow managed to make crawling up the bed look sexy, it just wasn't fair. He lowered himself over her, braced on one arm. His lips moved down along her neck as his hand slid up her thigh. This time he easily pushed her panties out of the way, his long finger sinking into her pussy.

She let out a long moan as he added another one. The stretch felt absolutely amazing. She rocked against him as he fucked up into her, her legs falling open to make it a little easier for him.

Usually she needed stimulation against her clit, but this was perfect. He knew exactly how to touch her, crooking his fingers up as he drove them in and out of her.

“Frank!” Darcy couldn't keep still as the heat coiled tight deep in her body. She gripped at his hair as his mouth worked against her neck, her stockings sliding against the smooth bedspread. “Frank, I'm gonna-”

The world narrowed down to the incredible sensations he was pulling from her, and seemed to come to a halt for just a second. His thumb flicked over her clit just once, and she tumbled over the edge, her fingernails dragging across his scalp as she came.

“I'll do, huh?” His voice was thick with need as he positioned himself between her thighs.

“Mm.” she reached for him, guiding his cock towards her as he held her panties out of the way. “You should just come here next time.” The words slipped out without a thought, and she instantly regretted it, her eyes flying wide to look up at him. “I mean...”

He pushed forward, his eyes holding hers as his thick shaft filled her cunt. “You were right.” That made her relax a little, and she bent her knees up, hugging his hips with her thighs. “This is _way_ better on a bed.” He pulled back, and a sharp snap of his hips punctuated his sentence as he thrust into her.

It was deeper, faster than what she was used to with him. Her feet were flat on the bed, she used them for leverage to push up to meet him again and again. She grabbed at his upper arms, her fingers biting into his shoulders. Time fell away as they moved together, the staccato of skin meeting skin scored by gasps and low murmurs.

His head dropped to the pillow beside hers, and she turned to catch his ear in her teeth, tugging on it until he let out a long groan. His rhythm started to falter, lingering each time he surged forward until she finally felt the pulse of his release.

Frank fell slack over her, but only for a second before rolling to the side. He knew how heavy he was. They lay there in silence for a long moment, catching their breath. “You need new locks,” was the first thing he said, what felt like several minutes later.

She stared up at the painted white ceiling. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He got up, glancing her as he moved around to the foot of the bed. “A dog would be a good idea, too.” His voice was tight.

“Frank?” She sat up, crossing her legs under her as she looked at him. There was a new line of tension in his shoulders that hadn't been there before. Where was this sudden change in mood coming from?

“I'm sorry, Darcy. I didn't want to bring this on you. Now when I'm out there...” He trailed off, shaking his head before it disappeared under the fabric of his shirt.

 _Oh_. Yeah. “Frank, I'll be fine. Best security money can buy- better, actually, than money can buy.” Stark Industries _was_ the world leader in privatized security, after all.

He buckled up his belt and gave her a long look. His expression seemed to soften, though, and he walked around to where she was sitting. His hand slid back along the side of her face, his fingers pushing through her hair. His dark eyes were heavy on hers for what felt like an eternity, and then he turned and was gone. She barely even heard the door close behind him.

Sighing, Darcy flopped back onto her pillow. Her phone buzzed from its spot on the kitchen table, the vibration against the wood carried easily though a house that was suddenly entirely too quiet.

It was a bit of a process to get her lingerie and stockings off, and when she was naked, she balled them all up and tossed them towards the hamper. She didn't want to be naked, though, and she pulled on a pair of soft pajama pants and a loose t-shirt from the floor.

Her steps dragged a little as she walked back through to the kitchen. Her phone was face down on the table, but she was pretty sure she knew who had called. Sighing, she dragged her fingers through her hair as she picked up the phone. Sure enough, that was Karen's number.

Something was out of place, though, and she looked over to see his black jacket draped across the back of one of the kitchen chairs. It had taken up temporary residence in the closet beside the door, but he'd obviously pulled it out and left it there for her. There was something else, though, a dark shape against the top of the table. A gun, a revolver, and a line of bullets standing beside it.

She swiped into her phone to text Karen back. _He's gone_.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Same verse as Say When


End file.
